


Finally, 100%, Really, Really Home

by gammarayserenade



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos Comes Home, Cecil Is Not Described, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, a fair amount of happy tears, and punny science posters, brief mention of Cecil's godawful fashion sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:24:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gammarayserenade/pseuds/gammarayserenade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos returns from the desert otherworld. Happy tears ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finally, 100%, Really, Really Home

Carlos stepped through the door and inhaled sharply. 

He was home.

_Really_ home. Not projected between universes, but really, _really_ home. He could feel the carpeted flooring beneath his feet that contrasted with the months of sand dunes and could smell the sharp tang in the air that marked Night Vale. He was _home_. 

He took a couple shaky steps beyond the old oak door, which was located where the front door of their apartment usually was, and collapsed on the furry, plum-colored couch (a relic from Cecil’s old apartment). One of Cecil’s adorably garish sweaters was thrown over the back of the couch. Placing his packed bag of scientific research beside the coffee table, Carlos gingerly lifted the sweater up to his face, pressed his nose into it, and smelled what he still instantly recognized as _Cecil_. Carlos let the tears that had been pricking at his eyes dissolve into unrestrained, happy sobs as he clutched at the sweater. 

"Cecil. My Cecil. I'm home. Oh Cecil, I’m _home_.”

The hairs at the back of his neck prickled. Carlos grinned.

"The Faceless Old Woman who secretly lives in our home!” he cried giddily. "It's good to feel your presence.”

"Likewise" she said silkily. "The radio host has been no fun at all without his scientist. It’s hard to eavesdrop on your conversations when they’re over the phone. And I’ve missed your cooking.”

Carlos laughed shakily. The tingling at the back of his neck ceased gradually and scuffling noises from the Faceless Old Woman emitted from the kitchen. He wiped his eyes and reached for the makeshift radio at his belt. 

“Based on what appears to be the time of day, I’m going to hypothesize that Cecil is doing his show right now,” he said to himself. He turned the dial carefully. "It must be on a different frequency than in the desert otherworld… maybe—“ 

His fingers froze as the dulcet tones of his radio host emitted from his invention. Carlos sighed as a pleased grin overcame his mouth. Maybe it was just the knowledge that he was mere blocks away, but Cecil sounded _closer_. 

“He’s just started the show by the sound of it though. Maybe I should—"

He paused and frowned down at his filthy clothes. 

“Um. Maybe I should get cleaned up first,” he muttered thoughtfully to himself. “I want to maybe not be so gross the first time he sees me again…”

He took his phone out of his lab coat pocket and glanced at the screen. The battery was at 96%. He smiled softly and placed it on the coffee table.

He took off his shoes and placed them by the door, which was now their normal front door again. No more desert otherworld for Carlos the Scientist. He’d gained so much scientific knowledge from there, and perhaps one day he might return with Cecil to show him its fascinating oddities and digressions from scientific law. But he was eager to continue his work in the community he called home.

Shedding the sand-crusted clothing and stepping into the shower was _heavenly_. The radio crackled cheerfully on the bathroom counter as Cecil slipped into a word from the show’s sponsors. After about fifteen minutes of rigorous sand removal, Carlos stepped out of the shower just as Cecil turned the show over to the weather. He lifted the dark fabric from the mirror and thoughtfully appraised his much cleaner appearance.

“Based on evidence of Cecil’s past broadcasts and the time it will likely take for him to get home, I don’t have time for a shave,” he mused to himself. “But I hypothesize that Cecil is curious to see what I look like with facial hair, based on previous data from our phone conversations.” (Technically, the words Cecil had wistfully sighed were “rugged” and “handsome,” but Carlos was extrapolating humbly.)

Carlos spent the entirety of the weather brushing his teeth multiple times (dental hygiene is not highly ranked in importance—and is not really, indeed, possible—in a desert otherworld). He then lowered the fabric and wrapped himself in a towel before grabbing the makeshift radio and heading toward their bedroom to get dressed.

It was roughly just as it had been when had left. There was the addition of a few new artistic renderings of Khoshekh he recognized from Cecil’s Tumblr, which rested on a floating shelf next to one of his punny science posters. He heard Cecil wrap up the show with a warm “Goodnight, Night Vale, goodnight” and checked the time on Cecil’s alarm clock as he shuffled awkwardly into a pair of jeans. Cecil usually spent a few minutes in the station packing up and chatting with the interns after the show. After that, it could take from five to fifteen minutes for Cecil to drive here, depending on how the town was feeling.

Carlos walked around the apartment, at first slowly to drink in the home he’d missed for so long and then pacing, a little nervously, as he waited eagerly for Cecil’s arrival. Finally (despite it having been a mere seven minutes), he heard the still-familiar rumblings of Cecil’s car. He grabbed his phone, danced giddily to the window, and watched Cecil park out front. He dialed Cecil’s cell and held his breath as the car door opened.

The figure below who stepped out of the car had the same number of limbs as when Carlos had last seen him. That was good. From this distance, unfortunately, he couldn’t see details like facial expression.

His hands shook when the figure brought his hand to his ear and the voice in his own ear answered the phone in a tired, but pleased, way. “Hey Carlos. What’s up? Here it’s just after the show, I’m not sure when it is for—“

“ _Cecil_ ,” Carlos breathed. He bit back the shakiness in his voice. The figure below paused en route to the front door. 

“…Carlos? Are you okay?”

“Yes, _querido_ , I—yes. Everything is fine. Everything is _perfect_.” He couldn’t hold back the exhilaration that seeped plainly into his voice.

He heard the smile in the radio host’s voice. “‘Perfect,’ huh?”

“Something really great’s just happened and I can’t wait to share it with you.” He was practically bouncing on his toes as the figure below let himself into the door.

“Something with your science? Or…"

He bit his lip as Cecil trailed off. He’d been worried that Cecil had been losing faith in the old oak doors search.

“…Well, Carlos,” Cecil resumed, the noise of the stairs echoing in the background of the call. Carlos heart pounded as he faced the front door of their apartment. “…If you’re excited about it, I can’t wait to see what you’ve discovered! I love your discoveries.”

He heard the footsteps at the front door and the keys jingling over the phone. “It may be sooner than you think _._ ”

He could practically hear Cecil’s brow furrow over the phone as he paused.

“Carlos? What do you mean—?"

The door swung open and Carlo’s heart stopped briefly before resuming at a breakneck speed.

It took a moment for Cecil’s brain to register who was in front of him. The phone slid out of his fingers and hit their carpet with a dull thud, along with his clipboard of notes from the show. Cecil’s mouth dropped in a way that would be comical if Carlos wasn’t so excited and happy and slightly nervous. They kept their eyes locked on each other for a long few seconds. Carlos drank in the sight of Cecil greedily. He was just as handsome and wonderful as he’d remembered, even more so than the flickering hologram projections had let him see.

“Hey Cecil,” Carlos said quietly, breaking the thick silence between them and unable to help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He let the hand holding the phone to his ear drop slowly.

Cecil trembled. Carlos saw his eyes moisten and ignored the insistent pinpricks in his own eyes. Cecil was speechless, a rare occurrence.

“Are—are you really—you’re—oh, _Carlos_ …”

His eyes were wide and hopeful, and hesitant about being hopeful.

“I’m here,” Carlos breathed, grinning.

“ _Here_ here?” Cecil’s voice cracked. 

“Here here.”

He saw Cecil swallow thickly. Cecil took a hesitant step forward and Carlos matched it eagerly, nervously. They quickened their paces before stopping a mere couple of feet apart.

Cecil’s hand reached out gingerly and Carlos’ heart hammered as his own hand copied the movement.

And then their fingers met.

Cecil sucked in a deep breath. Carlos laughed shakily and met Cecil’s gaze. In an instant, they were in each other’s arms, embracing the sheer reality of each other’s presence and enjoying the brilliance that was sweet reunion. Cecil wept into Carlos’ shoulder, clutching tightly to Carlos’ t-shirt and Carlos wove his fingers into Cecil’s hair. They kissed openly, messily, desperately.

“My Carlos, my imperfect Carlos, my Carlos, my Carlos…” Cecil whispered into his shoulder, still trembling slightly. “How—? When—?”

Carlos explained everything. How he’d made finding an old oak door his new science project, how he’d not told Cecil so as to not get his hopes up in fear of what might not happen, how he’d finally, finally, found the functioning old oak door and stepped through.

Cecil ran happy fingers through Carlos’ newly-washed hair. His eyes were still quite moist, but he was beaming and gazing at Carlos like he was the center of their dangerous, not-at-all-perfect universe.

“I do like the facial hair development,” Cecil admitted shyly.

“I thought you might.”

Cecil bounced from foot to foot, smiling. Carlos’ heart beat giddily in response.

“Well, Mr. Scientist,” Cecil said, his voice slipping into its deeper radio tone, “you did promise that when we saw each other next we could do some science together.”

Carlos grinned. “Oh Cecil, I'm _very_ interested in doing some science with you right now. I can think of a couple of experiments I’ve been meaning to perform once I got back to Night Vale.”

Cecil kissed him firmly, eagerly, before shoving him playfully toward their bedroom. The Faceless Old Woman shook her faceless old head from her perch and crept back to the kitchen.

“Sappy fools,” she said in a lovingly-annoyed tone. “I suppose it’ll be a little while before the scientist cooks for me again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Little thing I wrote because I would like Carlos to come home and I was in a fluffy mood.
> 
> Hope you liked it! ^_^


End file.
